Roger and John Brockenbrough, father and son, share a love of triathlon and an abiding respect for the hills of their hometown of Pittsburgh. Last fall, they took on the lava fields of Kona together. It was Roger’s first try at the Ironman and John’s fourth race in Kona. Their results on that brutal day speak volumes about their abilities: John placed second in his age group (40-44) in 9:43, while Roger captured a win in the 65-69 age group in 14:08, nearly an hour ahead of the second-place man in that category.

It seems that John is to blame for the whole triathlon thing in the family. Roger used to go to races just to watch his son compete, then found himself wanting to give it a try. Soon he was hooked in the typical fashion—by entering a race himself.

Roger, born in a small town in the foothills of Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains, spent most of his professional career at U.S. Steel as an engineer. He and his wife, Nancy, have four children—John is the eldest, at 42. Roger, 66, took an early retirement in 1991 and embarked on a second career as an engineering consultant. Now, he says, "Training and consulting pretty much consume all my time."

As for a background in sport, Roger says, "I wasn’t very active in sports in high school or college—just neighborhood pickup and intramural games of baseball and football." He’s clearly making his mark on athletics now, though, with multiple appearances in national and world championships in triathlon and duathlon. In 1999, he captured gold in the world championships for both triathlon and duathlon.

John grew up in Pittsburgh and swam on his high school swim team. "Since I wasn’t that fast a swimmer," he says, "[I] was put in all the distance events, mostly the 500-yard freestyle."

Clearly he had an endurance bent that began early: "In high school I used to go on bicycle touring trips with my friend. One summer, we left after school was out for the summer and rode all the way to New Brunswick, Canada," he says. "We stopped to call our families to let them know we were OK and then kept pedaling."

After attending Carnegie-Mellon and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to study engineering, John returned to Pittsburgh and began working at the Alcoa Technical Center. In 1990, he finished a PhD in mechanical engineering at Brown University. He met his wife, Laura, three years later. "I met Laura at the pool, swimming circles around me, and in 1995 we were married," he says. "Since then, because of trying to keep up with Laura in the pool, I’ve improved in triathlon quite a bit."

That’s an understatement. Last year, in qualifying for Kona, he went 3:57 at the Blackwater Eagleman Half-Ironman, placing fourth overall. He was ahead of some big names, including Alex Rukosuev and James Bonney. He was third at USAT Nationals last year in 2:02. And he appears to thrive in rugged conditions in Hawaii: He went 10:07 in 1998, another year of brutal winds.

Triathlonlive thought it would be fun to hear about their adventures.

AMY WHITE: Please tell me a little bit about how and when you got started in triathlon, and who went first—or whether this was a joint decision. Do others in the family compete in triathlon?

ROGER BROCKENBROUGH: John got started in triathlons first. I used to drive to races with him and watch. But I soon decided it would be more fun to actually do them! So John nagged me into buying a decent bike and I started training. I can still remember some of those early training days—the pain of the first hard runs and the swim workouts. Swimming has always been a struggle; I started doing my laps across the pool because it was shorter! John and I get lots of encouragement from the other family members, but haven’t yet convinced them to try a tri.

AW: Tell me about your first race: When it was, how you fared, and whether you knew then that triathlon was a sport you'd enjoy for years.

RLB: I vividly remember my first race. It was in Mercer, Pa., about an hour’s drive north. They called it a triathlon but it was really a du—run-bike-run. I did it in a pair of khaki camping shorts. But I won a little plastic trophy and I was hooked…could hardly wait until the next time to see if I could reduce my time. I think I was about 51 then.

JOHN BROCKENBROUGH: I got started when my roommate at the time told me there was a local event called a "triathalon" where you swim, bike and run. I had just started running at the time and thought why not try it—how many people could possibly know how to do all three sports? This was 1982. That first event was in May with a 500-meter swim, 15-mile bike, and 10-mile run. I remember it well because the swim was in a pool, and it was filled the night before. The water was 57 degrees, and of course at that time no one had a wetsuit. I finished 12th in this first event which, for me, was incredible as I was a middle-of-the-pack runner and swimmer.

AW: How many years have you been competing in Ironman-distance and half-Ironman races, and what drew you to them?

RLB: I did the half-Ironman in Muncie, Indiana a couple of times back in the late ’80s, and they went OK. Then I concentrated on the Olympic distance and didn’t return to the half-Irons until the ’90s: 1995 (Springfield), 1996 (Philadelphia), 1999 (Muncie) and 2000 (Eagleman). The Ironhorse in Springfield taught me the dangers of dehydration the hard way. I passed out a mile short of the finish and stayed overnight in the hospital. But I did learn my lesson and went on to do back-to-back World’s races (du and tri) in a sweltering Cancun later that year and did OK.

I thought about the full Ironman from time to time but didn’t give it a try until last year—seemed like I should do something special to celebrate 2000! John has pretty much been my inspiration for all of these races. He’s fun to train with and we enjoy trying to see who can be the better in their age group.

JRB: I’ve been doing half-Ironmans since probably the mid-’80s, and it’s taken me years to figure out how to race this distance. At first I avoided the Ironman distance altogether; first try and do well at the half-Ironman distance. In 1991 my friend Mac Martin, who had consistently raced well at Ironman distance in the late ’80s, talked me into training with him for an event called Embrun-Man in France. Our training weekends were predictable: Saturday, a 100-mile ride with 10,000 feet of climbing followed by a 40-minute run; Sunday, a 50-mile ride with 5,000 feet of climbing followed by a three-hour run. We did this like six or seven times. In addition to learning how to climb, I also learned how to descend and discovered that my hands would involuntarily contract on the brake levers above 55 mph. That’s the year this race was won by Scott Molina. I finished 17th I think, which was incredible. After this experience, I had a better idea how to train for long course. The big difference between the two distances, I think, is that in short course you compete against others, and in long course you compete against the course and yourself. In this sense, long course represents more for me the spirit of triathlon.

AW: Is there a race on your yearly calendar that you wouldn't miss for anything? What keeps you coming back to it?"

RLB: In recent years I’ve been doing St. Anthony’s Triathlon. It’s good to focus on that one because it’s early in the year and nice to get away to a warm Florida and see old racing friends again. It’s always a well-organized event with friendly [St. Pete] Mad Dog hosts. Closer to home, there’s a nice triathlon in June in Edinboro, Pa. that I like to do. I like that one because it has a short swim!

JRB: Our local race, which through the years has included athletes like Scott Molina and Rip Esselstyn but has never been won by anyone outside of Pittsburgh. You can’t be a local hero if you don’t do the local races.

AW: It's remarkable enough to be able to qualify for Hawaii as an individual—but to have a father and son in the same race is pretty incredible. What was the race like last October for both of you?

RLB: This was my first trip to Kona. I had thought about it a few times but something else always seemed to come up. It was my first shot at that distance, and I don't think I realized what I had signed on for until I got there. The swim was my toughest challenge. I did OK until I was about halfway back in, when I found myself getting seasick. Guess I had swallowed too much salty water, and it had gotten a bit choppy. But by alternating the breaststroke with the crawl I "heaved" my way in. This was the first time I had been seasick, boats or whatever, and strangely, after about a minute on land I was completely cured and raring to go. And I felt pretty good the rest of the day. However, with the strong side gusts, the ride on the bike was the most terrifying one I'd ever had. I kept such a deathlock on the bars that my arms got much more tired than my legs! The run turned out to be pretty easy, probably because I didn’t run very hard. Running is generally my best leg, but I concentrate on the 10K distance. It was my first marathon since Pittsburgh in 1990. I’ll relish the feeling of finally crossing that finish line at Kona for a long time.

JRB: Wow! As soon as I hit that big wind on the bike I knew I was in for a survival contest. Fortunately for me I was encumbered by neither a cycle computer nor a watch so I could just focus on keeping myself moving forward. This year was my best result in four attempts both in terms of time and placing. It’s much easier to train to finish this race than it is to train do it fast. I would like to try it again, but not next year for sure. So many want to do this race I think it’s important for others to get a chance.

AW: Do you give each other training advice and, if so, what is the best advice you've shared?

RLB: John has been a great help to me in training for the different races. His suggestions on running and biking workouts always seem to pay off. Also, his example of training hard yet knowing when to back off is a good one to follow.

JRB: We pretty much each do our own thing. Sometimes I’ll talk him into riding in the mountains or going cross-country skiing. He’s very consistent in his training, which I think helps him a lot. I pretty much take periodization to the extreme.

AW: What kind of training philosophies do you follow?

RLB: Although there are obvious minimums you need to log in, I try to concentrate more on quality of training rather than quantity.

JRB:

• The more you eat the more you can do.
• The only place you really get faster is on the couch.
• Intervals turn the ordinary into the extraordinary.
• You don’t have to be the best in the world to train harder than anyone else in the world.

This last one Mac Martin told me was Scott Molina’s, and I think it’s a great one.

AW: Are there any training tips you'd like to share?

RLB: So much has been written on training that it’s hard to add anything new. Overall I think it’s most important to set up a realistic training schedule, in terms of time available and what you want to accomplish, and then stick to it, barring injury. Also, challenge yourself incrementally. Don’t be afraid to try something a little different or a little harder.

JRB: You’re either training to get faster, training to stay the same, or training to get slower. It’s a personal but not obvious choice. It’s a lot easier to train to get faster if it is also at the same time fun.

AW: Roger, I noticed your name in the results of an outrageous hill-climbing event organized by two-time Race Across America champion Danny Chew in Pittsburgh. Please tell us a little bit about that.

RLB: This is another case of trying to keep up with John. He first talked me into this a couple of years ago. It’s a real informal event that Danny Chew organized. Pittsburgh is very hilly, and these are the 13 worst ones—some short, some long—scattered over about a 50-mile loop. I do it just to finish, not score points for first five up the hill. The worst one is at about a 35-degree angle, on very rough cobblestone with a little grass growing out here and there. It’s short, but with a right-angle turn at the bottom, you can’t get much of a start. You have to lean way over the front of the bike, or else when you try to crank, the bike will flip over backwards! It’s a killer.

JRB: Dad was nowhere to be found at this year’s event—it seems 32 degrees and snow flurries were just too inclement for him!

AW: I would guess that those hills are a secret weapon in the arsenal of all Pittsburgh triathletes, should they choose to use them. Is that your experience?

RLB: Hills are definitely great training aids. You hate them while you’re doing them but they do build up strength and endurance. Of course, you need some high rpm spinning to balance it out.

JRB: That’s exactly the right point—"should they choose to use them." They are easy enough to avoid most of the time as long as you stick to roads thick with traffic. Gravity is a wonderfully consistent training partner. Always there ready to go, good weather or bad, winter or summer, never an excuse or a whimper. It is far easier mentally to just have to ride up a hill than make the choice to ride hard. This is especially true if you remove all the easy gears off your bike first. I use the hills a lot in training because the steeper they are, the less cars choose to use them—and the fewer cars there are, the safer the ride will be. I think that’s something everyone should think about—making the ride as safe as possible both for yourself and the other members of the group.

AW: Please tell me about one triathlon mistake you'll never make again.

RLB: It’s not hard for me to think of my worst blunder. At the Triathlon World Championships in Perth in April 2000, I started running my bike out from the racks without buckling my chinstrap. So I had to re-rack and buckle it, probably losing 30 seconds or so. This rookie mistake turned out to be very important, as I missed a bronze by about 13 seconds.

JRB: Beginner’s bonk. I learned my lesson of eating right in the early ’80’s in a now-defunct New England race called The Equalizer. It was a four-mile pond swim, 50-mile bike and 15-mile run. The day before I somehow was convinced to believe that the two pieces of cold pizza on my plate were dinner. I think I skipped breakfast. The four-mile swim was in 68-degree water, and of course no wetsuits. It is funny now to think about it because the race organizer was happy the water wasn’t colder: "68 degrees, no problem." So after I emerged half-frozen from this pond I saw swimmers ahead of me stop to eat bananas: "Why are they wasting time eating?" I thought. I consumed a bottle or two of cold water on the bike and rode hard. Halfway through the run I started to wobble and a lifeguard helped orient me back towards civilization. It’s a feeling I hope not to have anytime soon!

AW: Please tell me about the race you're proudest of, and why.

RLB: I have to be proudest of my race at the Triathlon World Championships in Montreal 1999. I had done Worlds as part of Team USA since 1990, except for 1992, and never won a tri medal. But I managed to put it all together for that one, passing seven on the run to nail down a gold medal. That really turned out to be "my year," as I went on to win a gold at the Duathlon World Championships a month later.

JRB: Last year’s Blackwater Eagleman Triathlon in Cambridge, Maryland. This was a Half-Ironman qualifier race. It has always been a dream to break four hours for the half-Ironman distance, and although I had done some 4:04 or something before, I thought that at 42 I couldn’t really expect this to happen, but maybe I could make it happen. During the run I got some blisters on my feet but I didn’t care so much because I knew they always heal, and crossing the finish line at 3:57 was really cool. That’s one of the things that you really can take with you.

AW: Is there a Brockenbrough philosophy of triathlon?

RLB: Train hard, try to do just a little bit better the next time out, never quit, dig deep.

JRB: Mine would be: If you’re not having fun, it’s probably not doing you any good.